A full plate armour with no man nor soul inside

Corroding in the poisoned air within his shogunate

Yet, after ageless wait fire's buckled from inside

By a man of arms reaching like serpents into empires at

All sides



The divine winds carries him like an arrow to it's goal

Unwavering, laughing but without comedy

In the face of enemies and bloody tragedy

Mounted on horse back to deliver the Bushido's master

Stroke



Katana, Katana

When it leaves your side to reap

Katana, Katana

Bringing rivers of blood to weep

The dew on the trees of Shiroyama

Has the color of your sun



Ancient wisdom springs from his noble court

A wheel of wheels partaking in millennial codes

The quill is easily, eagerly replaced

Around steel the grip is firmer

Your convictions mirrored in the blade



Katana, Katana

When it leaves your side to reap

Katana, Katana

Bringing rivers of blood to weep

The dew on the trees of Shiroyama

Has the color of your sun



Unsheathe the longer and the shorter swords

Embrace fate and see the light of another day

Your time here depens on those before and those to come

Honour then and become the wind that slowly sweeps the

Dunes